


Cut

by Fierygirl0 (orphan_account)



Category: Bleach
Genre: Fighting Equals Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Fierygirl0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The damn shinigami are here again, but hey, at least that means I get to kick the brat's ass again, right? Wait, no? Bastards!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut

The shinigami are here again.

It's their fourth or fifth invasion of the month, attempting to save the big breasted chick, kill espada, or whatever other inane bullshit reason they've come up with this time. I swear that every week it's something different, some new reason why they have to come charging into Las Noches, guns blazing and swords swinging.

The only good part about the whole thing is that the brat comes with them most times. All the others might have sticks up their asses, but at least the Kurosaki kid is usually good for one hell of a fight. He's all power, stubbornness, steel, and fuck if it isn't nice to watch him bleed.

I know he feels the same way, I can see it in his eyes. He might like to think that he's all noble and protective and shit, but in the end, he keeps coming back to fight me for the same reason that I fight him. It feels good to let loose, to go up against someone who's your equal and won't hold back or pussyfoot around. There's nothing quite like throwing the entirety of yourself against someone else, and feeling them retaliate just as viciously and whole heartedly.

This time though, Kurosaki is noticeable in his absence. It's not that he isn't here, but he's not fighting. He's off in a corner of Las Noches and has been for the last hour or so. He'd jumped into the initial fight head on, right alongside the captains that had come with him, but then he'd retreated to that corner and he hasn't moved since.

It's irritating as all fuck.

I want to fight the brat, want to challenge him and see those brown eyes turn black and gold with his power. I can't fucking stand the wait. It's making me antsy and aggravated and very unpleasant to be around, as Noitora can attest to.

"Just go fucking track him down, you stupid furball," Noitora grouses at me from where he's leaning up against the white wall, "I'm sick and tired of your infatuated bullshit."

I give a half hearted snarl, looking up at the ridiculously tall espada. "Shut the fuck up, Noitora. I'm not fucking infatuated."

I just want to kick the kid's ass, I don't want to fuck it. Not that it's a bad ass, in fact I'm sure it's very nice behind the stupid baggy clothes he wears, but I just want to fight him, that's all! Just because retard Noitora can't tell the difference between bloodlust and actual lust doesn't mean I have any desire to have the brat under me.

"Sure you're not, kitty," I give a small hiss, glaring at the taller man. If he starts in on all that cat nickname bullshit... "But it's not like he's busy fighting someone else or anything, just go fucking fight him and get over it."

I get to my feet, brushing sand off my pants and shooting a nasty glance at Noitora. I'm not going because he told me to, I was just sick of sitting anyway. Like I'd ever follow Noitora of all people's orders, yeah fucking right.

"Whatever, bastard. I'll see you later."

I take off without giving him a chance to respond, jumping across the sand and heading towards the stationary reiatsu of my favorite punching bag. He doesn't move even as I get closer, taking wide circles around the fights in progress. I'm sure they'd be interesting, if I gave a flying fuck about anyone else, but I don't want to get anywhere near that strange pink coated captain, he creeps me out.

I find Kurosaki leaning up against a wall, eyes closed and head tilted back against the white stone. That sword of his, Zangetsu, is impaled into the sand on his left side, sticking straight up into the air. I can see the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest, but his brow is drawn tightly downward in its customary frown, and that convinces me he's not asleep. Though, weirdly, he doesn't move as I walk closer.

I move to stand over him, a glare taking over my face as he continues to ignore me. No. I will not let Kurosaki ignore my presence like this, not on my fucking life.

"OI! Kurosaki!"

His eyes flick open and he looks up at me, surprise in his gaze, before it turns to bitter disbelief.

"Of course," he grinds out, eyes pressing shut for a moment, "of fucking course it's you."

"Well yeah, who the fuck were you expecting, brat?"

It's strange. Normally Kurosaki is already up and lunging at me, not sitting placidly on the ground while I stand over him. He scowls at me and his eyes narrow, but he still doesn't move even as I sink down to kneel over his legs, watching him warily.

I can smell blood but the scent is faint, and there's no way an injury that bled so little would incapacitate someone as powerful as this kid. In fact the wound, that catches my eye as I look the kid over, is barely a scratch. It's split open his uniform, but I wouldn't even really call it an injury. I've gotten worse wounds playing, and I'm sure Kurosaki has too.

"The fuck is wrong with you, Kurosaki?"

He flushes and looks away, jaw tightly clenched right up till he speaks. "Made a stupid fucking mistake and got hit with... something, by that pink haired creep," he grinds out, brown eyes turning back towards me. I don't know what Szayel's been making lately, but whatever it is must be pretty seriously strong if it can more or less paralyze someone like Kurosaki, and being paralyzed is really the only explanation I can think of for why he's weirdly still.

Well it must be my lucky fucking day.

I can't help the laugh that escaped me or the grin that overtakes my face. You've gotta be kidding. Nothing to do, no one to interfere, and the kid is helpless? I must have accumulated some pretty badass karma or some shit like that to get this kind of reward.

"It's not fucking funny!" he snaps at me, eyes narrowed and offended, "I can't fucking move!"

I can hear the tinge of panic in his voice, see it in his eyes, and that's what silences my laughter. I know from those few times that Aizen has been a complete bastard and decided to pin me against the ground that being totally helpless in front of an opponent, without even the chance to fight, is terrifying in a mindless way. If I decided to, I could legitimately slit Kurosaki's throat right here, and there isn't shit he could do to stop me.

I snort and sit back, resting my weight on his legs and letting my grin fade. "Relax, brat, I'm not going to kill you."

Surprise flickers in his eyes before they narrow a little further in clear wariness. "Why not?" he demands and I give a little shrug, swinging my gaze over to study the giant sword next to us.

I've never really had the chance to look at the brat's sword when it's not swinging at me, and he doesn't fight with it in its normal butcher blade state much anyway. For the most part he starts fighting, goes into his bankai, and just finishes it like that, hollow mask optional. It's a fucking rush to go up against that much power and strength in a single person, but it doesn't leave much time to actually look at the brat's base state. The sword is fucking gigantic, ridiculously so, and if it's even half as heavy as it looks, I wonder how Kurosaki manages to lift the damn thing. The lack of a hilt is interesting, speaking to the brat's 'I'm going to swing this wildly around and hope I hit you' style, which is pretty fucking ridiculous if you ask me. I mean, I have more tact than _that_ and I never have – and probably never will – give a damn about the technical aspects of fighting with a sword.

"Why would I?" I grumble, turning my gaze back to him, "If I kill you, then I won't be able to fight you whenever I want, so why the fuck should I? It'd be different if I killed you while we were fighting, but it'd be such a fucking letdown to just cut you down like this."

And that's the only fucking reason, I am not fucking infatuated or whatever other shit Noitora thinks. I like fighting the brat, and I don't feel like killing him in such a pathetic way. Someday I'll tear him into tiny little pieces in a real fight and have my victory, but obviously it's not going to be today.

Fuck. I was looking forward to beating the shit out of the brat, what the hell am I going to do now? I haven't got shit to do, everyone else is busy, and if I know Szayel, whatever poison he used on Kurosaki probably won't wear off for hours at the minimum. Flamboyant jackass has ruined my day, motherfucker.

But then again…

Alright, Noitora might have a fucking point. I look back at the brat, flicking eyes over his neck and the slice of exposed chest visible from the v of his top. I am _not_ infatuated – stupid freakishly tall bastard – but Kurosaki is decently attractive on the surface level, and I suppose the idea of fucking him isn't _totally_ repulsive. Not that I'm going to fuck him like this, just the thought of trying to fuck him while he lies there like a ragdoll is killing any hint of a boner I could have had, but I can mess with him a little.

I reach forward and curl my hand around his throat, pressing my thumb tight against his windpipe. I can hear his breathing hitch and feel him swallow against my hand as he watches me warily, brown eyes narrowed. Instincts click into place, but I shove them away, tightening my grip on the brat's throat by a fraction. If this were any other situation, I'd be turning Kurosaki on his stomach to fuck him, given permission by him allowing me the grip on his neck, but this isn't normal.

Much as I don't fucking like it, the brat is stronger than me and while he's an innocent little bastard who doesn't know exactly what that means, I'm sure that hollow of his knows. When two hollows meet they either fight, fuck, or, very rarely, they mutually avoid confrontation, and if Kurosaki was an arrancar, I'd already be either dead or bound to him. No hollow or arrancar will allow another to challenge them as many times as I've challenged Kurosaki. If this were different – if he were different – then I'd have been pinned down and fucked whether I liked it or not a long time ago. But since he's primarily shinigami, he doesn't know he has the right, and I've been taking serious advantage of that.

"The fuck are you doing?" Kurosaki snaps at me, but I ignore him and lean forward to one side of his neck, taking a deep breath through my nose.

The resulting scent twists my mouth into a grin, satisfaction pooling in my gut. There're a good number of scents on the brat, hollow and shinigami alike, but none are even remotely strong enough to signify that Kurosaki's been fucking anybody. Not recently anyway. It's been at least a couple weeks since anyone's fucked the kid or vice-versa, and none of the traces of scent are strong enough to make me think that Kurosaki's even been spending much time around anyone. Brief contact at the most, maybe some sparring or fights, but no real physical contact.

Fuck, for all I know the brat could be a virgin. Wouldn't fucking surprise me, the way he acts.

Kurosaki shivers against me, breath catching in his throat, and I can feel the irritated vibration of his reiatsu as it rises around us. As always, the kid's power is fucking _intoxicating_. Heavy, dark, reeking of strength, and just hollow enough in nature to make my skin prickle with excitement. I can only imagine the fucking deadly beauty the brat would have turned into if he were full hollow and not a half breed, just the thought is enough to stir interest in my gut.

I didn't see it firsthand, but I saw the leftover videos of Kurosaki's fight with that ass-kisser Ulquiorra. That creature he'd become was everything I always wanted to be, and with the brat's mind behind the body, he would have been fucking magnificent.

No, god fucking damnit. I am _not_ infatuated.

I lean back and release the brat's throat, settling back across his legs and meeting his eyes. Mostly there's just anger and wariness, but I can see the touch of fear in the back of his eyes. His brow is drawn tightly downward in a deeper scowl than his normal expression, jaw clenched tight.

"What do you want?" he grinds out, "It's not like I can fight you, if that's it."

Oh yeah, that I'm aware of. The urge to fuck the kid over, literally _and_ figuratively, is still pretty strong. I'm well fucking aware that this is pretty much the only chance I'll ever get to do whatever I want to Kurosaki. Our first _real_ fight, once he was powerful enough to fight me on even ground, was a toss-up, but that was then. Nowadays he's closer to Halibel's level of power, and he's not slowing down either. There's no way that I can legitimately beat him now, not without some huge advantage or some dirty tricks.

And honestly, I'd just feel like a cheating bastard if I drugged the brat or some shit to beat him. I don't usually fight totally fair, but I've got a certain amount of honor.

"I'm not much for beating the helpless, shinigami. I just haven't got shit else to do right now." I huff out a breath, foul mood returning as I watch Kurosaki.

Nothing I want to do to or with the brat will be near as fun with him in his current motionless state, it'll just end up irritating me more. Man, _fu_ _ck_ Szayel for ruining my day like this. He couldn't have picked someone else to paralyze, some other bastard shinigami to make helpless? Come _on_.

I shove off the brat, standing with a small snarl. "Whatever brat, try not to get yourself fucked up next time, huh?"

I don't give him time to respond before I leap away with sonido, skirting around the edges of the fights still in progress. Maybe I can convince Stark to spar with me later. Bastard might be lazy as all fuck, but he's a decent fight, even when he doesn't give a damn. Then I can find some random numeros who's pretty enough from the back and fuck away some of my frustration.

And maybe next time I can coax the brat's hollow out to play or – even better – manage by some miracle to beat him, and then I can slake my lust on its actual target, and see how good of a fuck the brat is.

Yeah, that sounds good.

* * *


End file.
